#01: The Arrival.

Notes: Please take in mind that I do not support any of the actions the Nazis did during World War II. My own grandparents were fugitives from Poland. And I chose to write this is English as my German is a bit rusty *LOL*
The reason why I chose this subject was simple. I’ve read so much about the prosecution of Jews, gypsies and partisans. I kinda feel like everyone forgot that the homosexuals were murdered and tortured also.


The Arrival.

The air felt as if it was thickening within the train. It was getting difficult to breathe. Too many people were locked inside the carriage. Sascha felt dizzy. He needed to sit down, but it was impossible. The wooden floor was repulsively soiled and many of the people around him were beginning to panic. Some had fallen to the floor only a few minutes earlier. They had stopped moving. Stopped breathing.

Cries and coughs echoed in his ears. He knew a lot of the people with him were ill and weary. He desperately wished for it all to end.

He closed his eyes, trying to breathe deeply. It burned lightly in his throat and chest. He knew he was going to faint if they weren’t soon let out. The endless rough drive was bringing him to the edge of madness. Where were they taking them and what was going to happen to all of them?

Long seconds passed and swirling thoughts were trapped in his mind, unable to escape. Suddenly the train seemed to slow down its pace. He heard many of the mothers call for their children, not wanting to be separated from them. Without even thinking about it, he silently said a prayer, asking God not to forsake him.

He heard a screeching sound and felt light strike upon his face. He was momentarily blinded by the merciless sun as the doors were pulled aside, finally letting them all escape the crowded carriage.

People pushed harshly to get outside, desperately and nearly knocking Sascha to the ground. Groggy, he managed to stay upright and allowed himself to be lead outside by the mass. The chilly wind struck his exposed skin on his face like a bolt of lightening. Shaking him to the core.

He rubbed his arms in a feeble attempt to warm himself as he gazed around, searching the scenario. A small train station located in a deserted area. He was surrounded by thousands of people. Crying children, lonely wives and perplexed men. Despair was hovering over the place like a heavy cloud.

Scarily skinny men in blue and white striped clothes greeted them all with sad eyes. Apparently, their job was to take whatever bit of luggage that had been brought. The worn bags were gladly given to the skinny men in the faith that it would be returned to them later.

Not long after, a man in an SS uniform began to push people around. Also Sascha was pushed back. He gazed around and realized they had been divided into groups. Two long lines. One group of young and strong looking men. The group Sascha found himself in. The other group consisted of women, little children, men that the SS saw as weak looking and then old people.

“Follow me!” a tall uniform clad man yelled, instantly causing the lost souls to follow him. Sascha did too. He knew not to defy an SS Officer. If he did so, he would probably be killed. Those people murdered for fun and Sascha had no intentions of ending his life on the dusty roads.

He looked back, seeing all luggages being loaded on little carts and driven away by the skinny men. What was going to happen with it all? It was obvious that it was not being taken to where they were.

They walked for a while. Sascha’s shoes were turning the shade of brown because of all the dust. His legs were aching from standing up during the train ride and now the walking, however he kept on, despite the urge to stop and rest. A few had already fallen behind and not long after there had been gunshots. He was scared.

After a long and rough walk, they were finally greeted by a tall brick wall, along the road. He now knew where they were going. At the end of the wall would be the gate to one of those work camps he had heard of. And very true, not long after, they reached a large gate guarded by several SS guards.

Sascha looked upwards, his glance falling upon the great sign, showing them where they were. Sachsenhausen. The name was familiar to Sascha. He had heard about this place. Some of the things, he had refused to believe. Terrible things such as the killings, some of which he had already witnessed.

He felt his fingers lightly quiver as they were all taken through the large gate; the sights around him were terrifying. Hundreds of men, clad in stripes, were working around them. Dragging huge rocks, digging holes and many other things.

He heard the SS talking to one another, but he was unable to hear what they were saying. Now one of them stepped forward. Sascha’s heart skipped a beat. He was frightened of being killed.

“You’ve been divided into groups. The men will be taken to the workshops immediately and the women and children will be taken to the showers and the disinfection” Sascha noticed the smile on the guard standing nearest him. He knew something was terribly wrong. He felt a hatred rise up inside him. How could anyone be so cruel to anybody?

He watched as all the women and children were lead away. Something inside him told him, they would never return again. Not long after, it was his turn to be lead away along with the rest. They walked down a small dusty path. On one side were the barracks and forsaken men. On the other side, the brick wall and barbed wire that surrounded the entire camp.

He expected to be lead to a barrack, but instead they were all taken to a large white building in the middle of the camp. They were ordered to stay and not move and if they did, they would be shot. Sascha stood, his legs about to heave under him, but his will to live kept him upright.

One by one the men were lead inside. It didn’t take long before they came out again and when they did, they had been clad in the same uniforms as the ones he had seen back at the station and near the workshops. The blue and white striped uniform. Their heads had been shaved completely, leaving everyone almost identical. The only difference between some of them was the little colored triangle on their chest.

Some were still wearing the same yellow star he had seen on the streets and in the train also. The Star of David that meant they were Jewish. However, he didn’t know what the triangles meant. They had different colors.

And soon it was Sascha’s turn.

He was sent inside where a man approached him, asking for his name. “Kaulitz. Sascha Kaulitz…” he answered quietly, looking down at his own shoes. The man quickly looked over the thick pile of papers on the desk and then handed over a uniform and a pink triangle and motioned with his head for Sascha to continue.

Inside the next room, a young woman, also in the blue uniform, took his newly received shirt and quickly began sewing the triangle onto the chest. “Get in here!” a man nearly shrieked at Sascha and without hesitating, Sascha followed him into a small room. He was ordered to sit down.

Looking at the table, examining the tools in front of him, he sat down. All of a sudden two SS guards grabbed his arms, forcing him to reach out his right arm as they held him in place. The third guard took his tools and started doing his job.

Sascha felt a sharp sting in his forearm as he could only watch and wait for it to be over. The pointy metal tip dug deep into his skin, sending painful stabs throughout entire body. Tiny drops of blood dripped from his arm when they were finally finished and let go of him.

Pulling his arm to his body, Sascha let out a strangled moan when he saw the numbers now tattooed on his arm. He was nearly pulled out of the chair and thrown back out to receive his new outfit and immediately ordered to strip down to nothing and shower inside a tiny room.

He noticed the many wet footprints on the floor outside the room. Traces from the other people who he shared destiny with. He quietly obeyed and stepped into the pouring water. The icy water droplets hit his skin as if they were sharp nails piercing his flesh from thousands of directions.

Shivers traveled down his spine as he washed away the blood from his forearm. He trembled when he was finally ordered to stop bathing. Teeth chattering, he padded out of the shower room.

After this he was taken to the final room, holding his aching arm tightly to his chest, feeling the blood begging to lightly run and drip onto the wooden floor. They placed him in a chair. He sat completely still as he felt them remove all of his hair and delouse him, before ordering him to change to the blue striped set. And so he did.

When he came back out, he realized no one else wore a pink triangle. Suddenly, he felt as if he was nothing.

After everyone had been mutilated, marked and dressed, it was time to be taken to the different workshops. Sascha felt that this place would be his death.